


Entre

by skysedge



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Introspection, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge
Summary: Sometimes he's Jeritza, the man she would marry if either of them believed in such things. Sometimes he's the Death Knight, the man who wants nothing more than for them to kill each other.And sometimes he's both.
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Entre

Sometimes he's Jeritza, the man she would marry if either of them believed in such things. Sometimes he's the Death Knight, the man who wants nothing more than for them to kill each other. 

And sometimes he's both. 

Byleth wouldn't dream of telling him that, though. It would only confuse or upset him and she doesn’t want that. Not when it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference to her. Every day with him is a good day, regardless of who he happens to be. 

In the little nondescript building they’ve made their home, she’s usually dealing with Jeritza. He speaks rarely, often giving her small and hesitant smiles, He stands behind her while she’s cooking, takes her in his arms and rests his chin on top of her head. Most of the time he’s gentle but the more comfortable he gets the more likely she is to catch a glimpse of the Death Knight. It happens most often in the bedroom, in the heat of the moment. His voice will take on that edge of violence and he’ll forget to hold back, bruising her wrists and leaving her breathless. He apologises after, even though she doesn’t mind at all, she  _ likes  _ it when he’s rough. Even when she tells him this he’ll apologise, more for having taken steps towards hurting her when the time to kill her hasn’t come yet rather than for inflicting the pain itself. It distresses him, this strange middle ground between the two sides of himself, and so she doesn’t force the issue. He’ll apologise, she’ll accept it, and they won’t speak of it until  it happens again.

If she was able to tell him, she would let him know that he’s absolutely perfect in those intimate moments. It’s best in the seconds just before climax, his expression open and his eyes fierce with passion, his grip on her tight and possessive. Like this, he’s more like a god than a man, the vengeful sort that rises from the underworld to satiate his thirst on mortals. He would enjoy the comparison she’s sure. Maybe one day she’ll take the risk and tell him.

Where the Death Knight is sometimes in her home, Jeritza is sometimes at her side on the battlefield. It’s the Death Knight that stops unworthy enemies from hurting her in his place, that fells opponents with no mercy, that sets her alight with his thirst for blood. But it’s Jeritza that checks her over for injuries after, that calls out her name with something like fear if she falls even for a moment. Jeritza never stays long out there and she’s not certain he likes battle at all but it’s touching, comforting, that she can coax him out in a place that he claims is wholly the Death Knight’s domain.   
  
There's one thing, though, where the lines never blur. Sometimes, Jeritza says he loves her. Never directly, never for no reason, but the sentiment becomes clearer with each retelling, from a question of 'is this love' to 'I wonder if I love' to a hesitant 'I think I might love' and that's more than enough for her. He says it sweetly, confused, sincere, and her heart swells each time. The Death Knight never speaks of love. He can't. To allow him to consider such things would be to allow him in, to give him more power than he already has. Instead he speaks of killing her, of being killed by her, and this too is enough.    
  
She wouldn't mind dying by his hand. There are far less glorious ways to die. Even to die on the battlefield to another wouldn't be enough. But to be slain not by a man but by the very incarnation of death itself, that's...something worth dying for. She just hopes that she'll be able to see him smile one last time before she passes. It's certain to be a beautiful sight. Perhaps thinking such a thing makes her every bit as twisted as he is. It doesn’t bother her that she might be.   
  
Sometimes he's Jeritza. Sometimes he's the Death Knight. Always he's both, holding her heart in his strong hands, poised to crush it and end her life. Always she loves him. Nobody else understands. She wouldn't dream of ruining things by explaining it to any of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Help I have Jeritza brainrot and had to vent some feelings uhhh find me on twitter @_zenbee


End file.
